The Lonely Jew on Christmas
by Tikal Tyrant
Summary: Kyle is depressed at Christmas time, and the poem he has to write for school isn't helping. It's hard to be a Jew on Christmas. Style Christmas fluff!


A/N: Merry Christmas everybody! Well, it's still just Christmas Eve, but I felt it would be better to post this today rather than tomorrow. The idea for this story came from listening to the full version of The Lonely Jew on Christmas from the Mr. Hankey's Christmas Classics CD. Seriously, if you haven't heard the full version, listen to it! I swear, what I have Kyle write is actually what the song says! I kid you not! Anyway, This really is just pure fluff, so please enjoy, and once again, have a very merry Christmas! Sincerely!

**The Lonely Jew on Christmas:**

Kyle tapped his pencil against his notebook, gazing studiously at the words written there. He leaned over his desk, hovering over his work as the old computer chair creaked under his weight. That day, Mr. Garrison had assigned a simple writing assignment. Each student had to write a poem of any form as long as it was Christmas themed. This proved to be a simple enough assignment for the last day of school before Christmas break. So the problem here wasn't that Kyle didn't know what to write, (he had finished his not 15 minutes after it was assigned) but that he had hoped for it to come out a little less depressing.

Kyle spun in his seat, notebook out in front of him, pencil firmly held between his nose and upper lip. He hummed, sticking his pencil in the metal spiral of his notebook. "It's hard to be a Jew on Christmas," he sang the words he had written. "My friends won't let me join in any games." The lyrics flowed out the young Jew's mouth as he moved from his desk to his bed, holding his notebook above him until the final words. "I'd be merry, but I'm Hebrew."

Scratching his forehead, Kyle erased and rewrote the line, reading it aloud as, "I can't be merry, 'cause I'm Hebrew." He smiled, liking his revision before finishing his song with, "on Christmas."

He sighed, looking out the window at the snow falling delicately past. Most people would feel merry and joyous at the sight, but for the people of South Park, this was typical weather. The fact that it was Christmas snow just made Kyle feel sick to his stomach. Right now, all his friends were probably Christmas shopping or visiting families for Christmas dinner, playing and laughing as they caught Christmas snow on their tongues, which was, of course, illegal for Jews to do.

Though he didn't like to think of it, even Stan, who always stood up for Kyle when it came to his ethnicity, was too busy with joyous Christmas preparations to keep Kyle company. Stan was probably busy now with decorating the Christmas tree with his family; laughing and smiling as they placed the ornaments.

"It's hard to be a Jew on Christmas," Kyle sang again. "My friends won't let me join in any games. I can't sing Christmas songs or decorated a Christmas tree, or leave water out for Rudolph 'cause there's something wrong with me." Snow fell, and Kyle sang, his notebook resting on his chest as he absorbed his melancholy.

"I'm a Jew. A lonely Jew. I can't be merry, 'cause I'm Hebrew," he sighed, "on Christmas." Kyle closed his eyes, growing drowsy with depression, when suddenly a knock came from the door. Kyle's eyes snapped open. "Come in?" he said, not having expected anyone to visit him that day.

The door opened, and Stan walked in, a grin playing on his face. "Hey little boy, I couldn't help but hear, you're feeling left out of Christmas cheer," Stan sang, closing the door behind him and making his way to Kyle's bed. "Well I've come to say that you shouldn't be sad. This is the one month that you should be glad!"

Kyle sat up, laughing a bit. "You heard me?" he asked, slightly embarrassed.

Stan nodded. "Yeah dude," he said, taking a seat beside his friend.

"Then, elaborate," Kyle started, crossing his arms skeptically. "Why is this the one month that I should be glad? I don't get to do all the festive stuff you guys get to do. I just get to celebrate Chanukah, which, believe me, is nothing compared to Christmas."

"Well," Stan thought, rubbing the back of his neck.

"See!" Kyle shot back. "You can't think of anything!"

"No, no," Stan waved his hands. "Just hold on a second." He pondered for a moment before brightening up suddenly. "Well, 'cause it's nice to be a Jew on Christmas. You don't have to bother with all the festivities, and, y'know."

Kyle sighed, leaning back a bit. "But isn't that the best part of the holidays? Isn't that what everyone always talks about? Nice try Stan, but that doesn't make me feel a whole lot better."

"Well," Stan thought, "you don't have to be nice all year just to get presents. You don't have to be charitable and nice."

"Now you're starting to sound like Cartman," Kyle stated.

Stan frowned. "Gees, Kyle. I'm sorry," he said, somewhat irritated. "What else do you want me to say?"

"Nothing!" Kyle flopped onto his back. "Shouldn't you be at home helping your parents decorate the tree or something?"

"Nah," Stan replied, leaning back on the bed. "I asked them to wait until later. I thought you might be bored with everyone being busy or out of town and stuff."

Kyle turned his eyes to Stan, touched by his motivations. "Thanks Stan."

Stan smiled. "No problem dude. Y'know, last year, on Christmas Eve, I went with my family out of town to visit Mom's family."

"Stan," Kyle interrupted, "you don't have to try to point out the bad stuff."

"No, seriously," Stan said. "We went for a big Christmas dinner. It was fine until dad drank too much and ended up yelling at everyone and breaking the T.V." Stan blushed a bit. "It was pretty bad. So at least with Chanukah, you don't have to deal with that."

Kyle laughed, causing Stan to hide his face behind his hand. "Really? Dude, you're dad's a dumb-ass!"

"I know, I know," Stan said. "It was really embarrassing. Quit laughing ass-hole."

Kyle sat up and wiped his eye, calming his laughter. "Thanks dude. That actually does make me feel better." Stan punched Kyle's arm. "Have you written your poem yet?"

Stan pulled his hat off to run his hand through straight, black hair. "I was gonna, but I can't think of anything. I was in my room for nearly thirty minutes and I couldn't come up with anything. Mom said we can't decorate the tree until I finish, so..."

"Wait!" Kyle exclaimed. "So you didn't come over to cheer me up. You just got bored and wanted and excuse to get out of doing your homework."

Stan pursed his lips. "Well, I was excited when I got home to decorate the tree, but I screwed up and told my mom that I had homework. So she said I had to finish it, and you know I'm not a very great writer under pressure."

"Under pressure?" Kyle said. "Are you a good writer normally?"

Stan furrowed his brow at the statement, and Kyle flipped to a clean page in his notebook, writing away quickly, the pink of his tongue poking slightly out the corner of his lips. "What are you doing?" Stan asked.

"Your homework," Kyle stated simply in his concentration.

"Dude, you don't have to do my homework," Stan said, not that he would press the matter much harder.

"No, no," Kyle said, scribbling away in a manner only he could do. "I've got this."

In only a matter of minutes, Kyle held up his notebook triumphantly. "Ta dah! It's complete."

"Here, let me see," Stan said, taking the notebook from Kyle.

Kyle positioned himself behind Stan to see the paper, clearing his throat before repeating his peom in song form. "It's hard to be a Jew on Christmas. My friends won't let me join in any games." Stan looked over his shoulder at his friend before realizing what was going on. He had written a second part to his poem. "I can't sing Christmas songs, or decorate a Christmas tree, or leave water out for Rudolph 'cause there's something wrong with me. My people don't believe in Jesus Christ's divinity..."

Kyle sang, and Stan swayed slightly to the tune. "Instead of Silent Night I'm singing Hoo Hact Toh Gaveesh. And what the fuck is up with lighting all these fucking candles please?" Stan laughed at the lyrics. "I'm a Jew. A lonely Jew. I can't be merry, 'cause I'm Hebrew on Christmas."

Stan nearly missed his entrance, being somewhat entranced by Kyle's singing, but he cleared his throat and read his lines with the same melody as Kyle's. "Hey little boy I couldn't help but hear, you're feeling left out of Christmas cheer," he sang, recognizing the words as his own. "Well I've come to say that you shouldn't be sad. This is the one month that you should be glad! 'Cause it's nice to be a Jew on Christmas. You don't have to deal with the season at all." Stan held his arm out exaggeratedly. "You don't have to be on your best behavior, or give to charity." He laughed a bit at the coming lyrics. "You don't have to go to Grandma's house with your alcoholic family!"

Kyle cut in. "And I don't have to sit on some fake Santa's lap and have him breath his stinky breath on me!" he sang, changing the tense.

Stan laughed and pointed at Kyle, singing, "You're a Jew."

Kyle pumped his fist. "A Stylin' Jew!"

At that, Stan busted into laughter, falling back against Kyle. "A Stylin' Jew!?" he laughed harder than what was probably necessary. "What does that even mean?"

Kyle blushed fiercely, attempting to jab his knee into Stan's back but only succeeding in wiggling his leg. "Shut up. Fine. Change it," he said, pulling the pencil out and proceeding to erase the words, but he was stopped short when Stan wrapped his arms around Kyle's, ceasing his movements.

"Wait," he said, holding back laughter. "Don't change it." Small traces of laughter slowly dispersed as Stan shook a few more times, still latched to Kyle's arm; his body against Kyle's smaller frame. They stayed like that for a moment.

"Stan?" Kyle said a moment later, his face heated and dizzying. At that, Stan released his hold on Kyle's arm and sat up, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes.

"Haha. Sorry dude. It's fine. I just thought it sounded funny the way you said it so enthusiastically, y'know," Stan explained. He cleared his throat and held the notebook up, looking at Kyle to signal a continue. "You're a Jew," he sang again.

Kyle looked away and muttered, "A Stylin' Jew...," and together they belted out, "It's a good time to be Hebrew! On Christmas."

Both boys laughed at the silly song they had wrote together, or rather, that Kyle had written for the two of them.

"That was pretty cool Kyle," Stan smiled. "We have to make sure to turn them in in this order or else it won't make sense. Do you think Mr. Garrison's gonna read them out loud?"

"God, I hope not," Kyle laughed.

Stan grinned. "I hope so."

Kyle shoved Stan lightly. "Dude, that would be embarrassing."

Stan shoved Kyle back. "But it would be cool." Kyle pushed Stan back and Stan forced Kyle onto his back, and a small wrestling match ensued, ending with Stan on the floor and Kyle hogging the bed, both boys out of breath.

"Hey dude," Stan said, looking up at his super-best friend. "Wanna come over and help us decorate the Christmas tree?"

Kyle's eyes widened at the offer. Never had he been invited to such a tradition. He was at a loss for words. "Really?" he finally asked, sitting up and staring at Stan with a look that showed he feared that Stan would laugh and tell him he was kidding. "Is that OK?"

"Sure dude," Stan smiled, standing up and grabbing Kyle's hand. "It'll be more fun that way," he said, pulling Kyle up.

Kyle blushed, "I don't want to interfere."

Stan pulled Kyle behind him and out the door. "Kyle, what the Hell is wrong with you? It's not a bother. C'mon."

Kyle couldn't help but come along. He was overjoyed. Stan had been right. If he wasn't Jewish, an offer like this wouldn't make him feel so joyous. It truly was a good time to be Hebrew, but really, it wasn't even that. The fact of the matter wasn't the time of year or the particular holidays. It was that he was doing all this with his best friend.


End file.
